Praise You
by Paradocs
Summary: He dreamt of praise and victory, while his dreams were filled with visions of protection and power. And, to the rest of the world, they lied while they dreamed together in secret.


**Paradocs: **Yeah, I just finished this. And I'm quite proud. Now, hush up and read, will you?

**Disclaimer:** I would have to be a true "digital dummy" to claim that I owned Yu-Gi-Oh!. That's Kazuki Takahashi, thanks. The first line is from "Praise You" by Fatboy Slim.

* * *

_I have to praise you, like I should._

And praise Him Ryou did. Every day was good, as long as that was what He desired. And His desires were so simple, so few, that Ryou found it quite easy to please Him.

All He ever wanted to do was eat, sleep, and steal.

Feeding Him was simple enough. He liked meats best, steaks especially. They couldn't be too well-cooked, had to have just the right balance between brown and pink, to satisfy that craving.

Sleeping was easier still. Whenever He wanted to, He would sleep. It was the location that was important for that. It could not be too enclosed or too open, had to be well-protected, but free enough for Him to move about. And always, always, He had to sleep with a sharpened knife close to His right hand, just in case. He never slept without it.

It was the robbery that Ryou had difficulty with. It was certainly easy for Him to carry out the thefts on his own, to not involve the young boy in it in any way, shape, or form. But He did not like it that way. For it to satisfy his desires, Ryou had to be involved, had to be there with Him every single time. Perhaps it was fortunate, then, that He did not want to perform this particular act on a regular basis. Ryou certainly preferred it that way.

Occasionally, He would desire murder, death, for there to be blood staining His hands.

Ryou's hands.

The person whose hands were bloodied did not matter to Him; it was a matter of little consequence, something that, in His great and glorious scheme of things, did not truly matter. No, in His mind, all that mattered was that someone's blood had been shed, and that He and Ryou were still alive.

Because, whether He acknowledged it or not, He needed Ryou. And, conversely, Ryou needed Him. Their bond was one of mutual desire, even if it looked imbalanced to those who tried to analyse it from outside of their relationship. He needed Ryou to carry out his plans and schemes, to hide from his enemies, to simply _exist_. Ryou, in turn, needed His company, His strength, the certainty that, regardless of whatever happened, He would be there, He would protect him, _He would make things right._

It was for those reasons that He and Ryou were able to live together, to co-exist in a balance that was hardly equal to the outside world. Those who claimed to be Ryou's true friends said that He was using the boy, that, to Him, Ryou was little more than a vessel, a tool, a means to a very specific end. There was no point in Ryou's happiness or well-being, their portrayal of Him showed. He had injured Ryou before, hadn't he, in order to prevent His plans from being foiled? He had trapped his soul in a trading card, had tried time and time again to suppress Ryou's thoughts, his mind, his very _soul_, so as to achieve his goals. And, when all this was said and done, He would completely envelope Ryou, would take his body as His own and destroy the fragile spirit that resided within.

Truthfully, this was only partially true. Yes, He used Ryou, had trapped and squashed his soul multiple times. And, every time, it had been to prevent His failure, to save the two from any repercussions that might have occurred had the plan fallen through. Had it been suspected that He and Ryou were working together, the consequences would have been dire. For Him to realize His goals, it was critical that they think of Ryou as their friend, as an unwitting, unwilling party in His schemes. They could not think that Ryou even _knew_ about His plans, lest it arouse any suspicion within the group. So Ryou played the part of the innocent, clueless bystander to His cruel, heartless work, pretended that he knew nothing of what was happening and, on occasion, rebelled against Him, all for the sake of the plans that He had laid so carefully, so cautiously. They did this, even though they both knew that they would never win, that He would never be able to see His plans through to fruition, to see the dawning of the glorious new world He had envisioned so many years ago. His cause, they knew, was hopeless.

Yet, even still, in the dark of night, the two dared to dream. Was it possible that they were wrong? That He could somehow, someday, win against His foes? Ryou would beg for Him to believe that He could win, that His way was the right one. He was bringing salvation to the world, Ryou would tell Him, over and over again, He was making things right again in the world. It was His path that was the right one, the true one; it was not just revenge for a crime long since committed, but the righting of all the wrongs and slights that He had suffered, that _they _had suffered.

Perhaps it was, He would say, with a shrug of indifference. He wanted to see Himself win, truly He did, but could He? It was doubtful, really. His enemies had luck, had the very _Gods_ on their side; He had no one, save the boy and the urging of a single entity, a god of the greatest darkness. It was support, He supposed, but it was hardly the same as the support his foes had on their side.

Positive energy was a force to be reckoned with, He had learned, and it more often than not overpowered the dark powers He possessed. Ryou radiated that same positive energy, but beneath it, there lay a thick layer of negativity, built up over the years by the regret for the deaths of his mother and sister, the feeling of abandonment by his father, and a desire to prove himself to the man, to his so-called friends, to the _world_. In some ways, Ryou was far more dark, far more twisted than He was, yet the boy never showed this openly, nor did He acknowledge it.

Ryou preferred to acknowledge Him, to serve Him as his Lord and Master, to praise and encourage His actions. And He liked it that way.

He felt alive when He took Ryou with Him on a robbery, to a murder, when He ordered Ryou to do something, and the boy meekly, submissively complied. And Ryou liked it that way.

It was all a facade, a carefully constructed lie that the pair knew existed, yet never openly acknowledged.

Ryou dreamed of power and protection. And He dreamed of victory and praise.

And, for them, those dreams were enough. Enough for now.


End file.
